


Perfect Attendance

by hopeassassin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, General, Team Dynamics, Touou Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeassassin/pseuds/hopeassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wakamatsu’s captain senses were tingling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Attendance

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Touou boys so much. You don’t understand. I just—I can’t.
> 
> This is terribad, ignore me.

Wakamatsu hadn’t even been captain for that long, but he dared say over the little time he wore the title, he had developed something he liked to call ‘captain senses’.

 

They included various complex feelings.

 

But what mattered the most to Wakamatsu now was that his captain senses were _tingling_.

 

A vein popped into visibility on his temple. He threw a sharp glance to the side, catching movement out of the periphery of his vision.

 

Surely enough, his captain senses had not failed him.

 

“Aomine!” he roared, stomping his way over to the younger boy. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, you lazy ass?!”

 

His team’s ace—and the _bane_ of Wakamatsu’s _existence_ —languidly turned around to face him.

 

Daiki had just been on his way out of the gymnasium, after he’d packed up his duffel bag with his sportswear.

 

He paused in the middle of setting the bag on his shoulders, pointedly ignoring the warning in his captain’s face.

 

“I was just about to leave, actually,” the arrogant bastard said with a wide yawn.

 

Several other veins on Wakamatsu’s forehead pulsed in his mounting ire.

 

“And who the hell said you may leave?” The blond hissed menacingly as he regarded the other male evilly.

 

Much to Wakamatsu’s disdain, Touou’s ace had the gall to heave a tired sigh—as though he were dealing with something especially troublesome, like having to explain complex matters to a small child unwilling to listen.

 

If it were up to Wakamatsu, he’d wring the cretin’s neck in a heartbeat.

 

“Ehh? But I already did everything on the practice menu for the day. I feel slow and sluggish. Plus I’m hungry…” he kept drawling on, shifting his gaze away from his upperclassman in his obvious disinterest.

 

In doing so, Aomine was completely oblivious of the dangerous levels Wakamatsu’s anger was reaching.

 

“Just looking for excuses to ditch practice is not going to work! Get your ass back in that jersey!” Wakamatsu demanded imperiously. There was a spastic twitch in his eye, courtesy of one Aomine Daiki’s complete disregard for decency.

 

The ace gave another prolonged whine.

 

“You’re going to make me do extra work? That’s not nice,” he complained weakly, an infantile pout on his face.

 

His captain’s fists were shaking by his sides with barely contained rage and desire to punch him. Punch him for talking back. Punch him for being an ass. Punch him for being _him_.

 

“Why, I ought to—”

 

“Wakamatsu-san,” Aomine interjected, halting his captain’s infuriated tirade before he could properly start it. His voice was droning, but laden with meaning. “Is it really okay to be giving me special treatment in front of the newbies?”

 

The twitch in Wakamatsu’s eye intensified. He threw a quick glare over his shoulder at the first- and second-years who were watching their exchange with wide eyes, breaths bated.

 

He clicked his tongue.

 

“How’s letting you come and go as you please not exactly the same shit—”

 

“If you make me do too much work and go easy on the rest of them, won’t our levels end up being too different?” Daiki drawled on, as though he hadn’t cut Wakamatsu midsentence for a second time within the same minute.

 

The navy-haired male picked up a ball from the ground next to him, spinning it on his index finger nonchalantly.

 

Wakamatsu ground his teeth together, weighing the pros and cons of embracing his desire to punch Aomine in the mug for his audacity.

 

“I’d worry about that if you actually stayed for long enough at practice for me to see a chance of that happening,” he hissed out through angrily clenched teeth. His words were charged with the entirety of his contempt for the other teen.

 

Aomine smirked in that infuriatingly smug way of his. He shrugged his shoulders, his movements not halting the smoothness of the ball’s gyration upon his finger for a second.

 

“When I’m finishing your training regimen for less than half the time it takes for the rest of the team, I really don’t think my slacking practice is what you should be worrying about.”

 

Wakamatsu knew Aomine. He knew what he was trying to pull here. He was trying to talk his way out of making an effort. Wakamatsu _knew_ that.

 

Yet he _still_ felt a sharp stab at his words, and the pointedness of Aomine’s sharp gaze when their eyes met in that moment. The captain pressed his lips together, pissed at the wretch for being so rotten, but even more pissed at the fact there was fucking _truth_ to what he was saying.

 

Wakamatsu clenched his teeth together, nails digging into the palms of his hands. He held Daiki’s gaze for a long moment. The ace observed him throughout the process of his captain’s grudging acceptance of the truth of the matter.

 

The complacency of the smirk Aomine awarded him with at the end of it almost made Wakamatsu lose it right then and there.

 

“So train these guys raw, _captain_ ,” he said, his voice taunting. He stopped the ball from spinning, taking it in his hands. He flung it at Wakamatsu with one swift, too quick to register properly, movement. The Touou leader caught it through sheer reflex. “To make sure that I don’t end up leaving them behind on court.”

 

The twitching in the senior’s face worsened as he watched Aomine’s shrinking into the distance back as he departed with a smug, malevolent grin.

 

Honestly, Wakamatsu had no idea what Aomine was on about half the time. The asshole had spent most of his first year in Touou altogether _ignoring_ practice, barely showing his face in the gym at all.

 

Now, a year later, all of a sudden he’s an almost model player, infallibly coming to practice every time. However, he always cut the hours short, doing his laps, shots, everything much faster and _more accurately_ than the rest of the team.

 

It was like he was _flaunting_ , while pretending to benevolently do as he had been asked repeatedly and attend training sessions.

 

Wakamatsu growled, pivoting on his heel. His stormy eyes settled upon the baffled team behind him, and his blood boiled in his veins.

 

“Well? What are you slackers waiting for? Get back to training!” he hollered, stomping back to his own exercises himself.

 

Venting frustrations courtesy of their _dearest ace_ was going to become a tradition Wakamatsu didn’t care much for.

 

But running at his fastest while imagining himself pounding the disrespectful little shit’s smug face into the floorboards of the gym did have a pleasant ring to it.

 

Unbeknownst to the disgruntled captain and the rest of Touou’s basketball team, their ace ran into their manager on his way towards the school’s gates.

 

Satsuki’s brows narrowed, miffed, when she saw him: home going clothes, bag on his shoulder and all.

 

“What’s with the face, Satsuki?” Daiki queried her impassively, a sardonic look on his face. “I do come to practice every time, don’t I?” he pointed out.

 

She sighed deeply at that, the sternness easing off her face. She smacked him lightly with the clipboard in her hands on her way past him.

 

“I’ll apologize to Wakamatsu-senpai,” she told him. Her ambiguous, half-spoken promise held all the meaning of the things they didn’t need to say aloud between each other. “You make sure to show up tomorrow, too. _Got it?_ ” she stressed, glaring at him over her shoulder as she continued on towards the gym without pause.

 

Daiki lifted a hand, in way of bidding her goodbye, and in way of acknowledging he’d heard her. He never stopped nor changed the pace of his slow departure.

 

The pink-haired girl huffed to herself, feeling vaguely spiteful. Trust Dai-chan to be difficult even when he was supposedly doing as they all had hoped he would.

 

She shook her head, ridding herself of thoughts of their wilful ace as she approached the gym.

 

She really couldn’t spare any thoughts for him at the moment.

 

She was certain she was going to have her hands full with the damage control that his early take-off had surely caused to their team.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t even read through it before posting, I’m so sleepy and tired and ajfljfa I don’t even know why I wrote this. I just felt like it. Touou rules, ok? Kind of instigated by [this gif](http://hopeassassin.tumblr.com/post/75079341279).


End file.
